Eidolic
by SatanicAsch
Summary: Follow along with the crying child as he recounts his last days.


Eidolic - Chapter 0

Of course this happened. Why wouldn't it happen? He does this every single night.

Each one starting with a cruel snicker, a lock clanking into use, and a boy beating his hands raw against a hardwood door. Tears ran rivers down his rosy cheeks. His fragile throat burned from sobbing so loudly, and his lungs felt afire as he attempted to heave in breaths. Screams tore away at his vocal cords, he thinks they might split open. Not that it didn't already end up that way one way or the another. A few of his knuckles bust open, leaking scarlet smudges onto the white door, older wounds from more desperate nights. He sobs and bangs for as long as he can.

His name is Blake.

His arms fall to his sides as he slides down the door. Too tired and hurting to continue pleaing. Pale knees are dragged up to Blake's face, muffling what is left of his cries.

A hurricane dwindled down broken shower.

He always had exhausted quickly, Blake did. Known around town as the spindly boy who wailed and cowered about everything. The boy who couldn't ever hope to step out of his older brothers shadow, forced to suffocate under it by his own weak demeanor. Not even his parents could say otherwise. They knew just like everyone else.

His deep brown hair stuck uncomfortably to his forehead, slicked down by sweat and tears. He would need a shower in the morning.

His older brother, the cause of his current sorrows, thrived upon the youngers weakness. Blake's scaredy-cat persona and his blatant fear of those monstrous animatronic beasts made him an easy target with a weakness.

Those mechanical nightmares. The probable source of all things wrong in his life as of now. Blake couldn't understand why everyone adored them. Bought their merchandise and kept it in their rooms like hoarding treasure.

Each time he was forced to enter that hellhole his mind screamed run. Escape. Save yourself. There never failed to be some looming invisible force watching him. He didn't know just what it was but Blake knew it was there. Ever the watchful eye over the patrons of Fredbear's Family Diner.

Then the animatronics themselves where a horror, but to make it worse his older brother and his lackey friends always taunted him by forcing him near the beasts. Forced to hear every servo whirl, each gear grind, and all dead static in their voices. As well as jump scaring him no matter where he was.

When they first moved into the town, he'd been excited his father received the low paying supervisor job in the growing Fredbear's chain. How wrong young Blake had been. The toys his father brought home for him, once loved and played with, now haunted his imagination. But yet, he still kept them in his room. The memory of his dad playing with him using them too fond a memory to throw away.

And now he found himself held in the same lucid nightmare he always found himself in. A daunting trial of survival. As of late, his mind would push him into being more active in this nightmare world of his. Blake can only see it as some awful sign. A foreboding omen. Something leading to his dreaded upcoming birthday party.

As he got up to dash to his left door, hearing the footsteps that spoke for havok, Blake recalled the dinner that led him to his birthday party being at his most hated place in the world.

"Hey Champ! Can I ask you something?", his father called out to him as he cautiously made his way to the kitchen for dinner.

His father tried to sound chipper, but Blake could hear the exhaustion from work in his voice. He was still a nice man, despite never sticking up for his fairer, weaker son. Blake didn't hold it against him. Blake would love his parents no matter what.

"Sure.", was is soft-spoken reply.

His attention was still on the threat of his brother or his friends attempting to jump out at him. That's how it happened in his nightmares as well. A sudden shriek, then a grab, then death. Or in the real life instances, one hell of a panic attack. Blake didn't even know that's what they where called.

His worries where eased a bit as Blake watched his brother confidently, and smugly, strode to his seat at the dinner table. Always between Blake and his father. Always ready to boast about his achievements. Always ready to be a horrible person. Always ready to push Blake out of the picture.

Blake always wished he had a sweet older sister rather than his bully of an older brother plus his lackey friends.

Blake quietly slide into his seat, dragging a single slice of pizza onto his plate, while his father took a modest two slices, and every other slice was considered his brothers. Pizza seemed to be on the menu often, with his mother constantly away working as a doctor, no one was left to cook. Blake had tried but was too small to reach the counter.

"So, your birthday is coming up soon! Turning the big 9, just in a week! God, you are growing up so fast.", his father remarked, voice filled with sentiment as he dramatically wipe a fake tear away.

Blake smiled at the gesture.

"He could use some of that growing part! Ha!", a hand was patted harshly on his head, forcing his neck to bend down and winced as tangles where pulled roughly.

"John, be nice to Blake.", his father reprimanded. No hostility at the dinner table. It was a strict rule, one his older brother seemed to forget often. John just huffed and bit into a slice of pizza. Pizza from Fredbear's of course. He wasn't allowed to escape.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you wanted to do for your birthday. Since with me working we have some extra money, we can afford a nice party for you. Maybe invite some of the kids in town, you know, let them get to know you better.", he suggested, hoping Blake may come out of his shell a bit.

In actuality, Blake had no desires to celebrate his birthday. Normally any kid would jump at the offer. Blake was not a normal child. Normal children loved to play, and talk, and get gifts. Blake was reserved, quiet, and generally just shy. Birthdays became a horribly date for his brothers friends to hang about and harass Blake while everyone else got to have fun. At his expense. He would never be the normal son his parents may have hoped for. He knows they do, at least once and a while. Blake also knew they harbor similar feelings to his brother, so he didn't take it to much to heart. Normal children did not have fully lucid nightmares where they ended up brutally murdered like Blake did. Normal children did not collapse right at midnight to sleep. Normal children did not wake up in the middle of the night screaming and swearing his neck was just snapped in two while his father attempted to calm him down.

His father could never calm him down like his mother could. He never would let his father know that. Lest he start feeling anymore inferior to his mother than his father already felt.

Blake pecked at his pizza as he worked up the courage and wording to tell his father he just wanted to be left alone.

"Actually dad, I-", Blake started, before a hand dashed under the table and began squeezing his skinny wrist. Hard.

Blake let out a choked yelp as his brother twisted a bit, effectively expressing he keep his mouth shut.

"Blake actually told me he wanted to have his party at your work! You know how shy he gets when asking for things. Plus he knows you get a discount and we are tight on cash. How sweet is that?", John replied with incredibly casual acting.

He pulled weakly to get his wrist back, to no avail.

Blake was on the verge of tears, his wrist was surely bruised by now and John had already ruined his birthday before it was even there.

"Alright I guess, sounds like a plan. You finish dinner, I've got call your mother and let her know.", he stated with a smile before walking off to his room.

"Why are you such an asshole!", Blake shouted, swearing words he's heard leak out of many mouths. His brother dropped his wrist and began laughing about how cool he his and how he has to tell the guys about this. Taking the opportunity of his brothers euphoric moment of self-admiration, Blake pushed his plate away and ran outside.

Outside became a peaceful place for him. Soft breeze, cool grass, and a safe hide-out to calm down in. An abandon dog house meant for a large breed hid in the bushes way out in the yard. The foliage was overgrown and thorny, left forgotten for years. Blake didn't mind the small cuts he received each time he walked back here. The dog house was still in good condition, just all the paint had long faded. Luckily it was crafted from tough wood that allowed it to survive the elements.

The sky grew darker and and the wind slowed to a more ominous pace as he rest in the doghouse, enjoying the freedom of being alone.

Naturally, as soon as he began to nod off in his wooden paradise, his brother burst outside and begun shouting for him. Blake ignored him for as long as possible. It wasn't until John began threatening to get his father, he sighed and walked out to face the enemy.

The nightly ritual carried on with the collar of his black shirt being tugged into his neck, copious amounts of verbal abuse, and pulled away to confine him in his nightmares. Just like any night he's pleading to be let down. To let him sleep outside, to let him sleep in the first place. Not to be placed in some nightly trial of endurance.

He didn't want to grown up so quickly where he had to fight for his life. He didn't want to be only 8 years and thinking about killing himself during the day so he didn't have to survive the night. He didn't even understand what his own thoughts meant.

But that's how he found himself, peering out of the left door, listening for any sounds to indicate he wasn't alone. He was never truly alone however. It was saturday, everyone was out to play. Foxy hid away in the closet, having entered within seconds after he entered the nightmare. The screaming demons behind him where but a dull noise in his ears as he ran to the right door. Tightly shutting it as he heard Chica's ghostly breath. He still wasn't fully lucid, having control over his body was new, but a haze still hung over his head as his subconscious took over for some decisions. It was sometime during 3AM. Fredbear's presence would soon overshadow the four lesser animatronics.

He swore words meant for people much older than him as he heard footsteps from the left but had not yet heard Chica leave. He began to blink more and more as the Freddies behind him grew restless. He already knew he had bad chances to live. He was just a child, he didn't have what he needed to make it. Hell, he could barely reach the doorknobs!

But knowing that wouldn't calm his heart down. Knowing he would wake up screaming, somehow in his bed despite collapsing onto the floor each night. He knew his throat would be burning from screaming for life. To not have his neck clawed into then snapped in two. He spit up blood yesterday after failing the night. His frail body unable to handle the constant abuse to his vocal cords. Sometimes if he woke up to early, Blake would be forced to replay through his nightmare.

And so he found himself slinking back into his starting position, back pressed against his bed railing, hoping behind him was just a few jittery plushies that need to be shoo'd. And with that thought, he turned around.

Unfortunately, Blake was not so lucky tonight. He felt the claws on his neck, lifting him into the air before the tell-tale scream of death. That scream never failed to make Blake's ears ring. He began kicking as he was lifted, weak cries escaping as his throat was crushed. He wished he wasn't growing familiar with the feeling of chilled metal embedded itself into the dainty flesh of his body.

Crazed mechanical eyes looked right into his as he heard the snapping of bone. He was always still alive somehow. Still able to feel his head lull back supported by nothing but metal claws as they dragged through his jugular.

He woke up how he always would on. Screaming off to the side as he clutched his pillow for dear life. He was still to afraid to open his eyes.

Blake started to to make strangled noises as his vocal cords tore, still weak and seemingly not allowed to heal. He cracked an eye open, tiny chest still suffocated and heaving as blood worked on staining his tongue and lips, and almost sobbed in relief when he spotted it was 4AM. He wouldn't have to repeat the night. That relief was soon crushed as he began to gag. Blood and saliva began choking him. Causing him to cough painfully and pitifully. On instinct, Blake leaned over the side of his bed and began to spit up whatever he could, trying to clear his airways. Light beamed in as his father rushed in, disheveled and panicked. No matter how little he defended his youngest son from the town bullying, at least he still loved him.

Both his parents have stated they favored Blake's person over John's. Not directly to Blake, to some other parent while gossiping. But that only made it better. It wasn't some petty words of comfort. Rather something he overheard. That was enough to keep himself close to them.

His father moved onto the bed with him, pulling the damp mop of hair into his lap and patting his back. He spurred calming words to his panicking child.

Yet another night his father would be forced to fall back asleep in Blake's room, while the dark-haired boy laid awake. Taking what comfort he could with his fathers company when his brother couldn't fuck it up. After he watched the clock roll to 6AM, Blake allowed himself to drift back off, safe from his nightmares.

Sorry if this is awful. I wrote and edited everything on a very old phone with a very tiny screen ;-;

I was watching the 8bit gaming FNAF let's Play and just really wanted to write a fanfiction for it. There will be about 7 chapters, including this "prologue", then each night, then an epilogue. I will be moving linearly with each night, do each game after each night will be considered as the day before etc. Thank you for reading and hope to see you next chapter! - Asch


End file.
